


A Long Time Coming

by TheExplodingPen



Series: 100 Songs for Overwatch [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aggression, Fighting Kink, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Post-Omnic Crisis, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 15:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10166054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheExplodingPen/pseuds/TheExplodingPen
Summary: Sometimes, Gabriel really justhatesJack.





	

_Jab, jab. Left, right. Hook, uppercut, knee-strike._

At the moment, Jack Morrison was Gabriel’s least favorite person in the world, and the face he was projecting onto the punching bag belong to none other than the strike commander himself. Because honestly, Jack _needed_ to be taken down a notch or two. His promotion was going to his head. 

_Gabriel_ wouldn’t have let that happen. He’s more focused that Jack is, more dedicated, and less of a golden boy. He wouldn’t look as pretty in the promotional pictures but _hell_ , he’d do the job better.

_Hook, hook, backfist._

And Jack has the nerve to call him out in front of the entire squad for a training exercise mistake that wouldn’t have hurt anyone but him in the real world. And maybe it was a stupid move - Gabriel’s got enough clarity in his head to recognize that - but he’s never pulled a stunt in a fight and he’s never been a liability for his team. There wasn’t a fucking need to make an example out of him.

_Knee-strike, elbow, spin-kick, jab…_

“Reyes?” 

Gabriel cuts his combination short, pulling a kick and spinning to face the door. Jack is standing there, back straight, looking pristine in his blue uniform. Gabriel is clad in workout pants, his shirt somewhere in the locker room, sweat dripping down his chest and arms and soaking into the wraps on his hands.

Their differences are highlighted, and it’s irritating. 

“Can I help you, _Commander_?”

Jack sighs. “You’re pissed off,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “It was a mistake. It could have been any of you. I just tried to turn it into a learning experience for them.” 

“Gotcha,” Gabriel says, and turns back to the bag, intending to continue his workout. He’s not in the mood to argue with Jack. He’s not in the mood to _anything_ with Jack, except maybe rough him up so that damn blonde hair doesn’t look so perfect.

“Reyes,” Jack says again, in that tone that’s just borderline annoyed. It’s Jack’s _you’re being an idiot_ voice, which Gabriel is far more used to hearing than he should be.

Gabriel turns again, opening his mouth to make some sort of retort, but Jack isn’t standing in the doorway anymore. He’s about a foot away, still looking infuriatingly calm, and Gabriel kind of just stops thinking and _swings_.

It’s so much more satisfying than punching the heavy bag.

There’s blood dripping from Jack’s nose when he straightens, and that’s satisfying, too. He looks a little less perfect, a little less unflappable, and Gabriel can’t remember the last time that Jack Morrison looked anything but utterly heroic. And right now, he just looks _pissed_.

What happens next isn’t a fight. It’s a brawl, an all-out beat-down. Jack doesn’t pull his punches like he does in training and Gabriel doesn’t hold back with the moves he learned on the street. At one point, someone’s bone cracks, and the hiss of breath Gabriel hears in his ear tells him that it was Jack’s. But the man doesn’t stop, and the split-second of hesitation on Gabriel’s end costs him the upper hand. 

Jack kicks at the back of his knee, and then Gabriel hits the floor, hard, wind knocked out of him. Jack is on top of him a moment later, holding his face to the mat and straddling his hips, arms pinned to his sides. He’s entirely immobile. And somewhere, in a place in the pit of his stomach that he won’t acknowledge, Gabriel’s scared that Jack isn’t going to stop.

But he does. Jack breathes out a heavy sigh above him, but doesn’t make any move to go any farther. Instead, Gabriel feels warm breath on his neck and then Jack’s whispered voice saying, “What the _fuck_ , Reyes?”

Gabriel squirms, but that’s evidently the wrong thing to do, because the motion presses his ass up against Jack’s crotch and there’s definitely something tangible there. Jack’s _hard_ , and the realization sends a pleasant tingle down Gabriel’s spine.

“You need some help there, Commander?” Gabriel asks, voice rough. Jack jerks above him, and Gabriel wishes he could see the look on Jack’s face, because part of him wants to go through with this, but the other part is worried about potentially misreading the situation.

“Help?” Jack repeats, so Gabriel purposefully rubs his ass against the bulge in Jack’s pants and drinks in the harsh gasp that falls from Jack’s lips. And that’s enough confirmation that he does it again, rolling his hips back and feeling himself starting to fill out the front of his pants.

He expects Jack to maybe rub off against his ass, or maybe get up and stalk away to go jerk off in the showers, but he doesn’t expect Jack to forcibly flip him onto his back and pin his arms to the ground, eyes dark and face flushed. 

But the adrenaline coursing through his veins has Gabriel feelings cheeky, so his cocks his hips up and arches his back, baring his neck to Jack. He poses there for a moment, letting the other man take in the sight, before turning and meeting Jack’s eyes, smirking. 

“Orders, sir?”

Jack’s fingers tighten around his wrists, almost to the point of pain, but he’s so damn turned on that it’s just another sensation, a point where they’re touching, skin to skin. It’s glorious. And then Jack closes his eyes, like he’s trying to regain some sort of self-control, but it apparently doesn’t work, because a moment later, their mouths are pressed together and Gabriel has a very hard, very big bulge pressed up against his thigh.

Gabriel nips at Jack’s lower lip, almost drawing blood, and purposefully pressing his thigh up to give him the friction Jack wants. Gabriel’s not an inconsiderate lover, but Jack has his hands pinned and his hips almost immobile, so he can’t do much.

“Hands,” he breathes, and Jack releases them like they’re on fire.

Gabriel doesn’t give Jack time to overthink things, though. As soon as his hands are free, he reaches down, fumbling with the latches and buttons on Jack’s pants until he can get his hands around the impressive length inside. He strokes, firm and sure, watching as Jack’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open. He’s a picture, hair tousled and cheeks rosy, but it doesn’t irritate Gabriel this time. It just makes him lean up and run his teeth down Jack’s earlobe and whisper, “Come on, _fuck me_.”

Jack jerks in his hand and groans, and his eyes meet Gabriel’s a moment later, dark and needy.

There isn’t much after that.

Jack pushes into him, and he’s still clothed, but Gabriel isn’t. He’s naked, laying on the dirty mats, and Jack is hovering over him, inside him, stretching him open like he hasn’t been in a long time. It’s intense, and Gabriel’s fingers are digging into Jack’s shoulders, pulling him closer and pushing him away at the same time. 

Jack gets a nice rhythm, and it isn’t too hard, isn’t too deep, and Gabriel lets his head tip back and gives himself over to the sensations. It’s been too long. Between training and missions and _Jack_ , he’s been too busy, too preoccupied. But god, it’s good.

It’s even better when Jack gets a hand between them and jerks Gabriel off like they’ve been fucking for years.

Gabriel cries out, back arching, clenching down so hard that Jack groans in his ear. And then he’s coming, and Jack is coming inside him, and it’s hot and sticky and Gabriel’s world goes a little dark for a moment. 

When it clears up, Jack is still braced over him, panting, holding himself up with one arm and running a hand through his hair with the other. He’s still inside Gabriel, softening now, and the sensation is a little uncomfortable, but most it’s just satisfying. Gabriel’s satisfied, and all he wants now is a shower and a nap.

“I…” Jack starts, and Gabriel reaches and covers his mouth with one slightly trembling hand.

“No.” Shaking his head, Gabriel meets Jack’s eyes. “No apologies, no reason. Go clean up.”

Jack does, and Gabriel does, and after cleaning up the mat, they head back to their respective rooms.

* * *

But after that, whenever Jack starts to look like he’s going to berate him for something, Gabriel just smirks and murmurs, “Yes, sir,” just loud enough for Jack to hear.

It shuts him up pretty well.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by One Republic's "Feel Again."


End file.
